


Winter Talent Show

by michaelWayland



Series: Mentor? More Like High Profile Dad in Disguise [5]
Category: Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: BAMF Peter Parker, Crossdressing, Dancing, Drag Queens, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Gen, Humor, Parent Tony Stark, Precious Peter Parker, Tony Being Tony, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Tony Stark Has A Heart
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-09
Updated: 2018-06-09
Packaged: 2019-05-20 04:16:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14887442
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/michaelWayland/pseuds/michaelWayland
Summary: "Slutdrop!" Ned yelled as he went on his laughing fit. That confirmed Peter's worst horror story. "Oh my god, HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!""No, don't look!" Peter shrilled. His blood overflowed on his cheeks as he tried to reach his phone, only to be held back by MJ without breaking eye contact on the clip. "Damn, Parker." She smirked as she held him at arm's length. "You never told me you got moves."Peter loses a bet to MJ and is forced to perform on Midtown Tech's annual Winter Talent ShowOr my take on Tom Holland's lip sync battle performance.





	Winter Talent Show

**Author's Note:**

> I am aware that i am a year behind for this fanfic, but it had to be written especially after rewatching Mean Girls. The idea of Peter Parker doing it instead of tom is too good to sleep on.

 

Peter really should've downloaded that shady calculator vault app and stashed his private videos in there. 

 

No, he doesn't have his porn stash nor does he film himself doing lewd things — the idea alone makes him wanna throw up regardless if his stomach is empty or full — but he may have filmed himself goofing around inside his apartment when his Aunt May isn't around. 

 

There are clips of him making wacky impressions of every avenger in his Spiderman suit. That's the kind of video he'd willingly let Ned and MJ watch. He does not have an impersonation of Mr. Stark because his mentor certainly wouldn't approve. There are clips of him lip syncing to every band he knows while pantomiming the instruments as he stomped around. And then there's clips of him dancing in his pajamas inside the living room, where he recorded it with his phone prepped on the TV in an angle so he can capture his face as he played music in a battered mp3 player he scavenged from his dumpster diving duties. He'd do some off beat break dancing while Tupac, Kanye or R.Kelly raps. He'll pop his hips to Britney or Tinashé. He sloppily  choreographed hard hitting — or it would seem sharp and hard hitting if he can work on his timing and execution — choreos to any song that gets picked on shuffle play. He even made a crazy Michael Jackson impersonation, where he slipped ass first on the floor when his footwork on the moonwalk failed him. Hell, he even twerked to Rihanna once — not glorified hip thrusting twerk, though he did that too, but straight up buttcheek bouncing.

 

It's a weird way to boost confidence, but everytime Peter watched himself shamelessly popping the moves, he'll laugh and give himself a piece of his mind as a side comment to the clips, and he felt his self esteem rise just a tad bit, but he'll take what he can get. 

 

But he really should've taken a precaution and downloaded a vault app. He can feel every drop of self confidence he mustered shoot down the drain when MJ and Ned stumbled upon the dancing clips. 

 

It was a lazy sunday afternoon, and the three of them are hanging out at the empty park two blocks away from his place. MJ read a book, her head resting on his lap, while the two of them get to their geek talk as she puts it. They discussed and searched for holes on fan theories about their favorite movies they have read online. The two of them debated on which character gets to win on theoretical fights with particular scenarios and conditions. They'd even talk about Peter's actual Stark Internship while they helped themselves to chips and canned soda. 

 

Somehow, the conversation led to the wackiest things they've seen online. Peter doesn't know what's gotten to him, but he decided to brag about his lip sync videos when the opportunity arose. Ned didn't get off his back until Peter pulled out his phone from his pocket and played a clip of him lip syncing to Red Hot Chili Peppers. MJ pretended to be indifferent but she can't help but crack a smile when Ned cackled. 

 

"This is good stuff." Ned grinned. "Do you have more?"

 

Peter eagerly nodded and swiped at his screen left. It was a Def Leppard performance. Ned leaned in closer so he can see clearer. The glare of the sun above them made it diffucult for him to view the screen despite the fact that they're under the shade, hence the squinting. Peter's bladder reminded him to go to the bathroom and unload. He clutched the area, "Let me just go to the bathroom."

 

MJ craned forward so Peter can stand up. He did so hastily for his bladder's gonna pop. He headed for the dingy public bathroom briskly. 

 

His first mistake: he should've told Ned not to swipe right. 

 

_Work work work work work work_. Peter found himself running the moment his enhanced hearing picked up Rihanna slurring over dancehall tropical beats. When he saw Ned and MJ wheezing as they clutched their stomachs as they laughed hard, he wanted the pavement under him to open and swallow him whole. Ned must have sensed his presence for he glanced at his direction and laughed harder. "Slutdrop!" Ned yelled as he went on his laughing fit. That confirmed Peter's worst horror story. "Oh my god, HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"

 

"No, don't look!" Peter shrilled. His blood overflowed on his cheeks as he tried to reach his phone, only to be held back by MJ without breaking eye contact on the clip. "Damn, Parker." She smirked as she held him at arm's length. "You never told me you got moves."

 

"That's a private video." Peter whined as he struggled against MJ. "Only I should be seeing it." 

 

MJ raised an eyebrow Peter could swear is suggestive. "Somebody needs to recheck their definition of a private video."

 

A faint blush freckled his cheeks, "A private video is more than just... _those_ kind of stuff, you know?" He pouted. Peter made another attempt to snatch the phone away, but Ned jumped out almost as fast as he could. 

 

"Never would have known you've got rhythm, Peter." Ned grinned. Peter saw him swipe right again and pressed play. "Seriously, this is good stuff."

 

"My sloppy dancing is far from good stuff, Ned." Peter sighed. He admitted defeat and just slumped beside his girlfriend. Peter took interest on his beat Converse sneakers, swaying his feet around as his eyes followed them.

 

"Sloppy?" Ned paused the video, which relieved him just a tiny bit. "Peter, if you think your kickass moves are sloppy, I don't wanna know what you think of my dancing." His best friend grimaced. 

 

MJ hummed in approval. "I know a couple choreographers in town. You should enroll yourself in their classes and see if you get featured in one of their dance videos." She shrugged, "It would be refreshing to see you on Youtube dancing your ass off. Spiderman montages are getting old."

 

Peter scoffed. The thought of him spending digits he doesn't have on some dance class when he could just help with the bills instead is flat out ridiculous. "Like I could afford it."

 

"Hey." MJ chided. "I did said I  _know_ them, right?"

 

Peter blinked his eyes at her. "Um, I'm not sure if they'd appreciate weird 'you owe me something before' favors as payment. I mean, it doesn't pay their bills."

 

MJ rolled her eyes and slapped Peter's back. Hard. Peter yelped in pain, which made her snicker. "You're hopeless you know that?" She leaned closer to Peter, and he squirmed in his seat. "You know what I'm thinking?"

 

Peter glanced sideways. In the end, he decided to shake his head for he isn't sure how to approach the question. "I'm thinking," MJ's smirk was widening. "That you should perform at the Winter Talent Show this year."

 

"No!" Peter hissed. "No, no, no. Absolutely not." He can practically picture it; all the spotlights in the auditorium focused at him, and he'll meet everyone's mocking gazes, which will send his senses into overdrive. The music pumping from the amplifiers would be overbearing his hearing, which would increase his heart rate to lethal levels, which would end up with him trembling badly for everyone to see. He would cement his status as a social pariah, and he would never hear the end of it. 

 

He felt MJ shake his shoulder lightly. "You still with me?" Peter focused his gaze on her. The image slowly dissipated, but it sure left a scorch mark at the back of his head. "You kind of zoned out on us."

 

"Right. Sorry." He nervously nodded. Peter gulped a lump down his throat. "But no, I'm not doing that. I'm not a masochist, MJ. I don't want to humiliate myself in front of everyone." 

 

His mind raced back to his first encounter with the Vulture. He recalled how everybody at Liz's party jeered at him for ditching as soon as he crashed over the phone with Ned. As Peter pictures the scenario with him on the stage, their taunts would ring from the audience, overpowering the music which paralyzed him even more. 

 

"You'll slay the stage, loser." MJ gave him a squeeze on his shoulder. It lifted his spirits a bit. "What's the point of building your confidence this way if you're not gonna use it anyway?"

 

Peter stared. Just how did MJ knew he uses the videos as a confidence builder? Part of him laughed silently — her mysterious and particularly observant air is what hooked him in after all. That should come as a no brainer. 

 

"Fine." Peter sighed. "But only if you get to perform too." He bargained. At least he is fairly confident that MJ wouldn't bother preparing whatever hidden talent she has to showcase them in front of a crowd. The difference between him and her is that she just won't give a fuck or two. 

 

"How about a bet?" MJ smirked. Peter gulped another lump in his throat. What did he just signed up for?

 

"A - a bet?" He parroted. 

 

"You. Me. Dance dance revolution at the arcade a block away from our house. Now." She punched him in the shoulder lightly and stood up, grabbed her stuff, and walked away. "Whoever loses gets to perform whatever act the winner desires." She called out before sprinting, ultimately cutting Peter off and leaving him and Ned dumbfounded. 

 

"You got moves, Pete." Ned shrugged at him when they looked at each other. "You'll own her on an dance arcade game. I never saw MJ dance."

 

That's exactly the point — they never saw MJ dance. She just doesn't seem the type.

 

Which is why the both of them have to pick up their jaws on the floor after seeing MJ beat Peter's scores. They both ended up with a consistent S on their best of three game, hence why they resorted to comparing their scores instead. Peter's got moves and has the Spider Sense to match it, but he was upstaged by MJ for four or five digits. For a first timer in the videogame, Peter did exceptionally well, but it was MJ and her apparent expertise that caused his defeat. Ned on the other hand filmed the event on Peter's phone in awe.

 

It must be the way MJ hits the notes with her feet precisely, her timing flawless. Michelle Jones is one mysterious lady, and she still has a lot of aces inside her jacket sleeves. "No fair." Peter pouted. "You never told us you can dance."

 

MJ arched an eyebrow. "You're one to talk. Told ya you got moves."

 

Peter held a lone popcorn kernel between his fingers and inspected it. They are all seated at one of the plastic benches the small arcade has inside. There weren't much people, and Peter was thankful for that. He can't afford to see crowds spectating him with prying eyes. 

 

"So, I won." MJ grinned triumphantly. "Which means you get to perform on the Winter Talent Show, loser. And under my commands, which means I get to decide what you will do." She mused, eyes gleaming mischievously. Peter wanted to run then and there.  But deep down, he knew he wanted to please MJ the same way he wants to prove himself to Mr. Stark and to Aunt May. They all deserved someone better than some half-assed awkward teen.

 

So much for self confidence building. 

 

"Please tell me I'm going to dance." Peter whimpered. He stared at MJ with doe eyes, and she was almost caught off guard. Peter mastered the technique all too well. 

 

"Oh, you are going to dance champ." MJ's smirk did anything but reassure him. Oh, this is really gonna bite him hard. 

 

...

 

"M-Mr. Stark?" Peter said in a small voice as he approached his mentor. He clasped the invitation in his hands tightly as he got closer. 

 

Jennica Davis, one of the good looking seniors but somehow lacked in the appeal department assigned in the registration for the talent show had been skeptical when Peter approached her. Penis Parker has a reputation at Midtown Tech for being too much of a nerd whose only redeemable talent is to ace decathlon competitions on his team's behalf. Definitely not Winter Talent Show worthy, but that night isn't Penis Parker's night. It's Peter's. He'll strut his stuff on stage for all to see so he could get it over with. He mentally noted not to bargain on bets with MJ ever. 

 

She colored her blonde self surprised when she handed the invitation for two to him when she stumbled upon him in the hallways. Jennica didn't believed that Peter Parker, who'll be studying endlessly on talent night, chose to come out of his shell and dance. 

 

Aunt May is soaring to the high heavens when Peter handed her the invitation. She called her boss and told her she won't be available on her shift at that date. Peter protested. They need the money. But she waved him off and smothered him with kisses, and she has a knack for ruffling his hair and his clothes as she peppered him with words of pride and encouragement. Peter's practically splitting his face in half with his wide smile, feeling pleased with himself. Aunt May is proud of him for stepping up his game. "Seeing you on stage is far more important than a shift, Peter." She planted another kiss in his forehead and ran a hand on his pullover. "Let's go grab Thai to celebrate."

 

Peter had no other choice but to give the second invitation to Mr. Stark. All the non performing students will be allowed to watch, so giving it to Ned would be unnecessary. He does not want the thick, creamy sheet to rot on his desk. 

 

Yet, as he approached his mentor, he started pandering on just how bad of an idea is this. 

 

The invitations are for parents. Mr. Stark is his mentor, and while Peter sees him more than that, he doubts if Mr. Stark does the same. He's looking out for him because he's Spiderman. If he were a normal teenager, he won't even be getting 30 feet near him. 

 

"Kid, I thought we're past the formalities?" Tony playfully chided. The kid's eyes are darting around everywhere but him, nothing new there, except he's also strangling the life out of the inanimate object in his grasp. He arched an eyebrow. "You got something for me?"

 

That snapped Peter back to his predicament. "Yeah, um..." He handed the invitation to Mr. Stark, who wiped grease out of his hands with a hand towel before taking it. He skimmed towards it, then stared at Peter in amusement. Even Mr. Stark doesn't believe it.

 

"Cool." He commented, "Seems like being Spiderman helped you on your confidence."

 

Truth be told, it kind of did. At least Peter wants to take charge more, mask or no mask. 

 

"Y-you don't have to come, Mr. Stark." Peter scratched his head. "I know you're busy and —"

 

"Oh, for Christ's sake, kid. Friday?" The AI responded. "Cancel all my appointments and meetings for December 13." 

 

"Sure thing, boss."

 

Tony looked smugly at Peter. "Who says I'm busy?"

 

Peter softened his features, the puppy doe eyes scratching the surface. Tony knew better than to stare at it for too long. "You don't have to do that. Surely those are far more important than seeing me on stage."

 

"Well, I just did that." Tony gestured with his hands. "Plus it's one in a million years to see you get out of your web and shine, so it's far more important. What are you going to do, anyway?"

 

Peter fiddled with his fingers. "Dance. I'll dance."

 

Tony arched an eyebrow. "Peter Benjamin Parker can dance?" He looked up to the ceiling, "Friday, why wasn't that trivia in our background check?"

 

"There were no available data that is necessary to come up with that particular conclusion, boss." The AI dutifully quipped. 

 

Tony stood up and ruffled Peter's hair, which made him jump and flush. "I did told you you've got mad skills, right?"

 

Peter hummed affirmatively. Tony went to the pantry and helped himself with some coffee. "So what are you going to perform?"

 

Peter blinked his eyes rapidly. Mr. Stark is interested. "Um. Lip sync. I'm going to lip sync and dance, Mister —" Tony glared at him. "— Uh, Tony." He sheepishly corrected. Tony nodded in approval. "Like that TV show." He mused. "Who are you going to imitate."

 

"R-Rihanna." Peter chewed on his lip and looked down at the floor. 

 

Tony narrowed his eyes at the kid, which made him shrink. "You lost a bet, haven't you?" It was a safe and a really easy and obvious deduction. 

 

"With MJ, yeah." Peter is too embarrassed to meet his mentor's gaze.

 

"So, you're going to perform in drag?" Tony smirked. 

 

"Apparently." Peter shrugged. 

 

"Pepper knows a couple make up artists." Tony offered. "She can do her make up no problem, but I don't think she can do drag."

 

Peter gaped at Tony. This isn't the reaction he's expecting to get at all.

"Why do you look so shocked?" Tony asked. Peter let his silence do the talking. He just stared at the floor, face flushed.

Tony furrowed his eyebrows. "Were you expecting something negative, kid?"

Peter nodded.

Tony rolled his eyes. No way is he going to mock Peter for performing in drag even if it's because of a lost bet. He's not Howard for fuck's sake.

"Peter, I think I made it clear that I'll support you regardless of whatever you wanna do — except if it revolves around drugs, alcohol, and fucking around with more ass than what a toilet seat receives, on which I will personally reprimand you — but you get the idea. Friday, my notepad please." He commanded as he produced a slim metallic stylus from one of his drawers. A holographic plain sheet materialized itself in the air in front of him. "Speaking of which," Tony said, "I need you to tell me all the stuff you need for this performance. I'll hook you up."

"N-no, Mr. Stark." Peter protested. "I mean, that's awesome and am thankful for that but really, you don't have to —"

"I insist, kid." Tony assured him with a smile. He saw Peter relax a bit. "Most dads out there would beat their boys for admitting to performing in drag, but I'm not a regular dad. I'm a cool dad." He chagrined. Tony wanted to cringe for referencing a chick flick Pepper likes to watch on a daily basis deep down, but because he lacks empathy, he always has to make up with denial and off-beat humor. It's not a bad thing, though. Tense, nervous Peter loosens up whenever he tries to be funny. "Right, Friday?" He humorously said.

"You don't have kids, boss." She sternly pointed out, being the clueless AI she is. Tony should really program more sass in her.

"Yeah, that's a good way to rain on my parade." He muttered, shifting his attention to the kid. "So, what are the stuff you need? C'mon, kid. It's just me and you." Tony paused and stared at a corner for a dramatic effect, "Well, I'll try not to tell Happy about it but yeah."

_It's just me and you._ Peter felt something tug at his heart when Tony said that. When Uncle Ben died, those words have been his and Aunt May's mantra on everything they face. Odd shifts, Flash being Flash, school troubles — it's just the two of them.

Peter bit his lip to prevent himself from giving the emotional outburst Tony wouldn't appreciate. He opted to just take a seat beside Mr. Stark and tell him every detail of the draggy performance MJ has in mind for him as his mentor juts the items down on the virtual notepad, too focused in his task to even think if he's asking for too much. After all, the task is what grounds him to not be overwhelmed by the tugging of a particular knot he didn't knew was inside of him.

Tony stared at the cluttered virtual notes in his handwriting. "What song are you going to perform?"

"Um, Umbrella." Peter said.

Tony nodded. "Does your school allow props like confetti on the stage?"

"Yeah." Peter bit his lip, "But the performers are expected to clean up afterwards."

"You need rain machines." Tony noted that down and underlined it thrice.

"Rain machines?" Peter echoed. "Like, full on water sprinkler machines?" His eyes widened when Tony nodded in satisfaction. "Mr. Stark, that's cool, but I don't think the school would appreciate that —"

"I'll have Dum E and his clean up crew on the backstage." Tony waved him off. "This is your first time performing, might as well be extra about it. Besides, what's the point of lipsyncing to Umbrella without getting a little wet?"

Peter felt a lump wedge itself on the back of his throat. "Thanks, Tony." It shocked him how easy it is to go on a first name basis with Mr. Stark. It was far from weird and inappropriate — it felt natural, like he's supposed to be doing that all along.

Tony chuckled, pleased that Peter referred to him by his christian name without correction. "You're welcome, kiddo."

The two of them settled the planning by booking Peter a dance studio he can use all for himself that's also walking distance away from their apartment despite the boy's insistence that his room would do.

It felt weird, seeing his whole body move to the rhythm, and his frightened eyes staring hot flecks at him every time he meets his own gaze. In the span of two weeks, he got used to it. But he had to juggle four activities now — Spidermanning, Decathlon, his extra academic credit, and now this. Whenever he stresses himself out just thinking about it, he mentally reminded himself that it will all be over soon. December 13 is just around the corner.

Come Friday, and Peter received his costume in the mail. Mr. Stark has had it made for him, and he doesn't even have to give his measurements since he has it. Peter pulled out the skin tight skimpy black top with matching leather boy shorts (which is obviously meant for ladies, but he is weirded out because he's, well, a boy), fishnet stockings, a glossy black stiletto heels, and a short bob cut wig.  His blood rushed to his face as he held the top, and his aunt beside him shares his sentiment. They exchanged glances, however, and suddenly they are wheezing out of sheer laughter. Peter slept soundly that night, his teddy bear beside him for him to clutch on should his dreams get ugly. Luckily for him, it was a dreamless night, a refreshing take on his frustrating sleep routine.

...

Tony arrived on time, which is news.

His knack for dramatic entrances as a front for arriving late on events was swept aside. He isn't planning to steal Peter's thunder on his big day. All the students and the staff around him are ogling him, starstruck and shell shocked at the fact that Tony Stark has graced them with his generous presence clothed in signature shades and a blazer with matching slacks over a thug cat white shirt. He handed his invitation to the student manning the entrance to the theater, who's too busy trying to keep his drool to himself all while trying to be professional and give him directions.

The parents get to be in the front seats, to his delight. The seats for Peter Parker's visitors are at front and center. They actually took his word that Tony Stark is going to watch him and gave him the best seat. 

Correction: them.

Tony's mind went  _uh-oh_ as soon as he saw that he'll be sitting beside May. He shouldn't be surprised since she is his guardian, but his relationship with Peter's aunt is...professional. Tony has a hunch that May is still white-hot pissed at him for all the things he's involved Peter in. She's a stunner in her frilly blouse and pencil skirt, but Tony knew better than to prod at an angry tiger.

May must have sensed his presence, for he glanced at his direction. She narrowed her eyes, "Mr. Stark." She acknowledged him with a nod.

"Hey, May." Tony pursed his lips and took the seat beside her. "How's Peter?"

"Good." She said as she stared at the plain stage set up. Tony spared a glance at the rain machines hooked up on the stage's ceiling. "He's in the backstage, shaking his nerves off. Definitely not engaging to a fist fight against some icon named Steve from Brooklyn because an Avenger told him to do so nor is he in the air trying to crash a plane." She rambled nervously.

Tony bit back a retort. Peter does all the shit as Spiderman independently, but it's not like he can blame May. He blocked out the last part, though. He does not need the guilt to eat him up tonight.  "Good to see you, too." He breathed. Tony shifted uncomfortably at his seat so his back is slightly angled away from seething May.

They must have both realized that they're acting like a divorced couple looking out for their kid, so they remained silent for the rest of the program.

Tony felt his blood boil when that Flash kid in plaid and ripped denim went on staged and tried to rap some Eminem. Tony felt like it was the longest five minutes of his life, torn between inspecting his nails, looking around him to see that the audience shares his sentiment, and cringing at Flash. Everyone politely clapped when the torture was done, but Tony is past the point of boredom to even clap. He managed a scowl, though, so that's something.

"Our next performer," the blonde emcee's cool tone slightly soothed his nerves. "Is an unexpected one. Most of you know him as one of the members of this school's decathlon team." She ran her gaze at everybody for the effect. "Yes, I am as shocked as all of you when he registered himself. Who knew a nerd has it in them to dance? Why don't we see it for ourselves, yes? Ladies and gentlemen give it up for Peter Parker!"

The parents politely clapped. The students seated behind them and on the balcony above drew in hushed murmurs. Tony was practically jumping in his seat as he pulled out an old school camcorder, which got May's attention.

"A camcorder?" She gestured with her hand exasperatedly, "Really?"

Tony shrugged. "It fits with the watch-the-kid-grow-up aesthetic." He pressed play. He has another camera wired in his hairline to capture it in topmost definition but he does want to capture the moment aesthetically — low pixel count, sharp, saturated video with a time and date stamp at the far corner.

Peter got out of the stage looking tense in his suit and tie get up. He met his mentor's gaze, and Tony grinned at him and gave him a thumbs up. Peter exhaled, and he was undone.

Tony and May is here for him, front and center, and all the prying eyes in the theater doesn't matter.

The music started playing, and he lip synced to Singing in the Rain. The jazzy, slightly awkward gait was intentional, Tony knows that, but he buried his nervousness down to the pits where it belongs. The crowd looked...bored. Tony smirked to himself.  _Wait for it._

The first song ended, and Peter ran for the changing booth fashioned out of open umbrellas held by backup dancers MJ knew from affiliations. Tony was bracing himself on his seat, unable to contain his excitement.

Rihanna's drums started playing, and both him and May were hooting excitedly at the top of their lungs. Tony blatantly ignored the stares of the other people around him. When they realized that they did it simultaneously, they stared at each other. May rolled her eyes and went back to stage while Tony grinned at himself stupidly.

Peter went out in the drag outfit he graciously provided, and the crowd of students from behind and above went wild. Tony can swear he can hear mockery lacing their tones.

Tony couldn't wipe the grin off his face, though. Seeing Peter strut down the stage with fiery eyes and a confident posture made him proud. Now, Tony is rarely a fan of pop music, but he found himself dancing in his seat as Peter did his thing.

The chorus hits, and Peter takes front and center. He popped his moves fluidly. There's a sharpness to it that would tell anyone that he's got the talent for dancing. The crowd went wild once more as Peter popped his hips as well as his chest in sync with the black umbrella in his hands.

It was when Peter stared seductively at the crowd as he slowly lowered himself that at least half the female population of the campus lost it. They were practically squealing in their seats, the noise hurting his ears, but he didn't mind. It was a sign the audience loves him and rightfully so.

Then, as if they couldn't get any wilder, the part with the rain machines came up and they were hooting as loud as Tony awhile ago, clapping their hands like baby seals wanting to be petted. Peter did a handstand, and the noise was off the charts. Tony was lipping along when Peter knelt down and made a show of splashing water and shaking his body.

The performance ended with Peter doing a front flip drop. He landed on the floor on his back gracefully, and the students as well as most of the parents were clapping enthusiastically, trying their best to outclap Tony and May.  He ignored the jealous jeers from most of the male students as Peter took a bow and headed off to backstage. Dum-E and his friends took that as their cue and they whirred to life as they went onstage, mops and buckets in their metallic hands. There was an audible gasp all around them as they watched the robots in awe.

"Send me a copy." May said beside him. She was too busy watching Dum-E in fascination.

Tony tucked the camcorder back in his pocket, "Yes, maam."

...

Once the program is done, Tony and May headed straight for the backstage. Peter was prepped on a vanity wearing a thin white robe over him, and Ned plus his girlfriend are head over heels for him. Tony clasped his shoulder and gave it a squeeze. "Great job out there, kid." He smiled as his gaze landed on the gold trophy clutched in his arms, "You should do that more often."

"Only if I lose another bet again, Mr. Stark." Peter chuckled. There was a gleam in his brown eyes that infected him with a fuckton of joy. Tony handed him a shopping bag filled with spare clothes he picked himself at the mall. Nothing fancy, really. It's just a plain shirt and blue denim. Tony had cut the price tags off beforehand because they'll certainly give the poor boy a heart attack.  Peter gawked at them. "Get changed." Tony instructed. "I know a good Italian restaurant a few blocks away from here. I'm taking you to dinner. All of you." He added thoughtfully. Ned looks like he might pass out, and MJ is too happy to smile and not smirk like she would usually do. May even thanked him wholeheartedly. No hard feelings, just a normal dinner between all of them. Tony had taken two cars with him tonight. The other one was driven by Happy, and he was on his way back to the compound with Dum-E and Co. Peter was too tired to ask him about the clothes, so he just took them and headed for the bathroom. He returned a few minutes later wearing the perfectly fit clothes and a hoodie zipped down overlaying it. Tony clapped his hands enthusiastically and gestured for all of them to follow him in the parking lot.

...

Peter had never felt so light, so good before.

There was a particular relief when all was said and done that washed over him. The claps felt like music to his ears. Peter was certain it isn't because he fulfilled his end of the bargain.

MJ is proud of him. Ned is proud of him. Aunt May is proud of him. Mr. Stark is proud of him. It filled him with pride to know that he has pleased the important people in his life.

Dinner was especially great. They laughed and told funny and embarrassing stories about each other as they stuffed themselves with pasta. Tony is more than happy to order extra for him to eat, and he was thankful for that. When they're done, they are all stuffed and bone weary not only because of the delish food. It felt nice and normal, and Peter would like to have more of those.

He put on a pair of pajamas and went to bed. He checked his phone, and there was an email from Mr. Stark.

_When you got bitten by a popstar:_

_ Underoos.mp4 _

Peter grinned. He plugged his phone on its charger and wrapped himself in his blankets. Sighing in relief, he closed his eyes.

He was bombarded with pleasant dreams that night. Peter didn't woke up screaming in the middle of the night. It, too, was a welcome change.  
  
  


 


End file.
